The Raven
by ATrueHufflepuff13
Summary: A spoof of The Raven, by Edgar Allen Poe.


**Author's Notes**: Once upon a morning dreary, my English teacher asked us all to rearrange the wording of "The Raven" and make it less gloomy and depressing, while still keeping it recognizable. Being me, I went all in, and this is the result.

First: I must apologize. I am _awful_ at poetry. The rhythm and rhyme of this piece is terribly scarred, but I did my best. Also, I hope I made everything clear, and you aren't going "What? What's going on?" in the middle of the piece. I'm still not sure I completely succeeded when it comes to clarity.

Hope you enjoy. :)

* * *

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious folder of overdue homework,

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my bedroom door.

"Must be some brother," I muttered, "tapping at my bedroom door -

Only this, and nothing more."

~oOo~

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,

And each separate dying lightbulb wrought its ghost upon the floor.

Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow

From extra credit of sorrow - sorrow for the classes four -

For the highschool level classes I was failing. I felt poor -

**_A_**-less here for evermore.

~oOo~

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating

"'Tis some brother entreating entrance at my bedroom door -

Just a late brother entreating entrance at my chamber door; -

Not a teacher with my score."

~oOo~

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,

"Kid," said I, "or parent, truly your forgiveness I implore;

But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,

And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,

That I scarce was sure I heard you" - here I opened wide the door; -

Darkness there, and pictures and an electrical socket and toy trucks and dirty socks and crumpled paper and dust and broken crayons and nothing more.

~oOo~

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,

Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;

But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,

And the only word there spoken were the whispered words, "what if I _don't _fail?"

This I whispered, and the hallway murmured back the words, "don't fail."

Merely this and nothing more.

~oOo~

Back into the bedroom turning, all my soul within me burning,

Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.

"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice;

Let me see then, what that thing is, and this mystery explore -

Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -

"Tis the wind and nothing more!"

~oOo~

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,

In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.

Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;

But, with mien of lord or lady, perched beside my bedroom door -

Perched upon a mound of laundry just beside my bedroom door -

Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

~oOo~

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,

By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,

"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven.

Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly store -

Tell me what thy lordly name is above the bakery's swinging door."

Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

~oOo~

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,

Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;

For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being

Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird beside her bedroom door -

Bird or beast upon the laundry stacked beside her bedroom door,

With such name as "Nevermore."

~oOo~

But the raven, sitting lonely on the laundry pile, spoke only,

That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.

Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -

Till I scarcely more than muttered "Other friends have flown before -

In a minute he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."

Then the bird said, "Nevermore."

~oOo~

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,

"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,

Caught from some unhappy shopper whom unmerciful salesmen

Followed fast and sold to faster till his songs one burden bore -

Till the dirges of his wallet that melancholy burden bore

Of "Never-nevermore.""

~oOo~

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,

Straight I sat and crossed my feet in front of bird and clothes and door;

Then, upon the pile sinking, I betook myself to linking

Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -

What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore

Meant in croaking "Nevermore."

~oOo~

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing

To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;

This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining

On the laundry's sweatpant lining that the lamplight gloated o'er,

But the laundry's sweatpant lining with the lamplight gloating o'er,

Textbooks shall sit, ah, forevermore!

~oOo~

Then, I thought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer

Swung by grading machines whose foot-falls tinkled on the carpeted floor.

"Wretch," I cried, "my teachers hath lent thee - by their cruelty they have sent me

Tortured conscience and more misery with these memories of my classes!

Stop that torment, and assist me- help me forget these horrid classes!'

Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

~oOo~

"Prophet!' said I, "thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!

By that bunk bed that bends above us - by that laundry we both adore -

Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant semester,

It shall clasp a sainted grade which the teachers named A+

Clasp a rare and radiant grade, which the teachers named A+?"

Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

~oOo~

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -

Whether teacher sent, or whether baker tossed thee here ashore,

Desolate yet all undaunted, on this laundry pile enchanted -

In this room by bad grades haunted - tell me truly, I implore -

Is there - is there stress relief during Christmas break? - tell me - tell me, I implore!"

Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

~oOo~

"Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked upstarting -

"Get thee back into the tempest and the bakery's swinging door!

Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!

Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the clothes beside my door!

Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my socks!'

Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

~oOo~

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting

On that dreadful stack of laundry just beside my chamber door;

And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,

And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the door;

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the door

Shall be lifted - nevermore!


End file.
